Pygmania

It began innocently enough. I'd wanted to download a decent Android app for logging my monthly cycle, on account of that shit don't belong in gcal no more. Can you guess what    ± 0   is code for? The app I picked turned out to be a super deluxe period tracker extraordinaire complete with a tumblr presence ( blog.glowing.com ; teh lulz) and infographics  delusions of grandeur: Dear app that tracks the whereabouts of my uterine lining: please, take yourself less seriously. You have my permission. This post is part of a series on menarche and ritualisms and more ™  (oh, my!) See the first installment, conveniently titled Menarche: Archaisms and More!

Figured out how to port the image files of our beloved tofu stickers to the format of our beloved blog. Everyone wins!  More to come.

So, this is [one of] the retarded game[s] that I play on the smartphone. I showed it to you, like, last week; you remarked that the father in the family was named Spider , the son Echo , the sons Pierone and Brunone , the wife Lillesse and so on.  There is no way to change the names, and they invariably are appropriate for either Italian people or...well...not people at all (cf. "Spider"). Pictured above is a "Virtual Families Matchmaking - Incoming Proposal" for one of my characters. In case you can't decipher the image, here's what is happening: The dude has glasses and your hair. Name: Bug Age: 23 Gender: Male Profession: Beginner Hacker Salary: $45/day. Has $158 in the bank. Wants kids?: Maybe Likes: ___ Dislikes: dusting I just about died.

How I feel at my internship

I may want to relive my glory days with a new Razr: http://gizmodo.com/5850922/motorola-droid-razr-the-worlds-thinnest-smartphone This time we won't have to worry about any tequila accidents...